


Mister Two Wrongs

by Arianne, VenatorNoctis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Age Difference, Anonymous Sex, Bad Decisions, Come Inflation, Consensual but a Bad Idea, First Time, M/M, Pastfic, Pining, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Subtle Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 07:51:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianne/pseuds/Arianne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/pseuds/VenatorNoctis
Summary: Mister Right doesn't think Cor's old enough to get laid, and he's getting sick of waiting. After a few nights in Altissia, he goes looking for someone else to help him scratch this itch.Cor looks him in the eyes. They're the color of whiskey. "Don't tell me you didn't want me to see you watching.""Oh, you've caught me." He's definitely flirting, those eyes glinting bright. "Would you like a prize?""Yeah, maybe I would."





	Mister Two Wrongs

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah okay so Regis & co.'s trip to Accordo was probably a lot more fraught than this and didn't involve a lot of rolling around in expensive hotels enjoying touristy bullshit but go with it, right? We're here for fearless teenage Cor fuckin Leonis making bad decisions the way you do when you think you're a bad enough dude to handle anything that comes your way.

By the third night in Altissia, Cor is going out of his mind. It's not even being cooped up too close with the others—that was way worse on the road. Here, they've gotten two rooms at the Leville, which is more space to spread out than they've had since they left the Crown City in the first place. But Clarus and Regis, in the royal suite, are probably having stupidly athletic sex basically every time they come back to the hotel, and they _know_ how much he'd give to be a part of that, and Clarus keeps telling him no. Or—not _no_ exactly, nothing that final, not an actual rejection. Clarus says things like _see if you still feel that way in a year or two_ , as if Cor doesn't know what he wants right now. As if another birthday would magically make his decisions count more.

When they come back to the Leville after dinner on the third day, Cor has a plan, or at least the start of one. He waits until Wes and Cid have pretty obviously settled in for the night—Wes watching a movie, Cid sketching some kind of plans in the margins of a technical manual—then gets up and grabs his jacket. "I'm going out for a while."

Wes looks up, eyebrow arched. "Where you headed?"

"Thought I'd check out the arena," Cor says.

"Hah!" Cid barks. "Don't blow _all_ your gil."

"I'll be fine. I'm not dumb." Cor checks his pockets and turns for the door, and neither of them try to stop him or offer to come along. They know he doesn't need babysitting. They've seen what he can do.

He slips out the door and heads down to the lobby, ducking between groups of tourists to step out onto the sidewalk. Finally he has an opportunity, and he's not going to waste it. He's spent this entire trip in close quarters with a couple of extremely attractive men who are having sex at any opportunity but not with him, and he's tired of taking matters into his own hands.

Cor heads to the nearest gondola station, which is what he would be doing if he were actually going to the arena, but instead of asking to be dropped off at the station where he could transfer lines, he says, "Take me somewhere I can get a good drink?"

The gondolier doesn't bat an eye, just says, "As you wish, sir," and pushes off from the pier. Maybe the drinking age is really low here, like it is in Lestallum. Maybe it's the fact that Cor looks a couple years older than he is. Maybe the guy just doesn't give a shit.

The gondola drops him off at what looks like an open-air bar right down at water level, with nice lanterns hung around the edges and garlands draped across the deep red back wall. There are plenty of little tables and only a few of them are occupied, with one or two other people at the bar itself. It feels really different from all the crowded, fancy restaurants on the upper levels.

The bartender serves Cor without a second glance, taking his gil and pouring him a Taelpar Sunrise, and he finds an empty table to occupy. He doesn't plan to get really wasted—that would be irresponsible and potentially dangerous, when he has a Lucian accent and he's out here alone. But a drink to relax with while he figures out where to go from here? Sure.

There have to be good places to go in Altissia to find hookups. It's too big a city for there not to be _something_. So it's just a matter of figuring out where. Cor sips his drink and watches the other patrons in the bar.

Someone is watching him in return, he realizes after a few minutes. A man up at the bar, tall, in a long black coat layered with tattered scarves, his tousled hair almost the same dark red as the walls. He looks ragged, like a drifter, like a nobody, except for the imposing height and the surprisingly strong jawline. And when he looks at Cor he looks _hungry_.

It's pretty sketchy, a guy that age looking to pick him up. Cor knows that. This guy could be anywhere from thirty to forty-five, and there's no excuse for him to be looking at a teenager the way he's looking at Cor right now. But getting "no, not yet," and "eventually, don't rush things" from Clarus all the way from Insomnia to Altissia has _really_ gotten old. Maybe somebody with fewer scruples is just what Cor needs.

The man leans on the corner of the bar he's taken for himself, looking at some others around the room but always coming back to Cor, sipping his drink. It's something plain, in a glass with ice. When he gets a drop of it on his lower lip, he licks it off.

Hell with it. This is why he went to a bar instead of to the arena, right? Cor drains the rest of his drink, sets the glass down on the table, and gets up to go over there. He feels a little warm from the liquor but he's still plenty steady on his feet when he reaches the man. "Hey. Noticed you were looking my way."

"Did you?" The man's voice has a half-familiar lilt to it, a cadence Cor can't quite place. "I must work on my subtlety."

Cor looks him in the eyes. They're the color of whiskey. "Don't tell me you didn't want me to see you doing it."

"Oh, you've caught me." He's definitely flirting, those eyes glinting bright. "Would you like a prize?"

"Yeah, maybe I would." Cor licks his lips, letting his own gaze rake down the stranger's body and back up again. He wishes he could get a better look at the body under all those layers. "Do you have one for me?"

The man laughs. "A man who knows what he wants! I suspect I have something that'd be to your tastes. Only I can't give it to you here."

Cor's heart rate picks up. He was absolutely right about what this guy wants. "I don't need to hang around here for anything. You have a more appropriate place in mind?"

"Should I book a room for the night?" He's already putting some gil on the counter, enough to cover his drink and then some, like it's nothing to him.

"Works for me," Cor says. He's already settled up for his one drink. "Lead the way."

"We have a bit of a journey, if you don't mind. It's where I always stay given the chance, you understand." The man leads him to the nearest gondola, Cor following close behind. He offers Cor his hand when he climbs in like some gentleman out of a movie. Cor ignores it, and the man just shrugs it off and turns to the gondolier. "The Leville, please."

The gondola's already pulling away from the dock. Cor hesitates. He doesn't want to be difficult and make this guy decide he's not worth the trouble—but what if they go to the Leville and Clarus or one of the others sees him? What if they're angry at him about this, or worse, what if they don't let the guy go through with it? "So... the Leville might be a problem," he says.

"You won't need to worry about the bill, my dear. I'm glad to settle it."

For a second Cor bristles. Does this guy think he's just some broke kid who's hustling? He doesn't let himself snap, though, keeps his tone as calm as he can. No big deal. They'll figure this out. "It's not that. It's..." Fuck, how does he say this? "I have friends staying at the Leville. They're kind of overprotective. I don't really want to run into them when I'm—" he dares a quick smile— "collecting a prize like this."

"Ah, and here I had planned to keep you in my bed all night, but if you insist..."

"Believe me, I love the sound of that," Cor says hoarsely. The idea of getting a room at the Leville with someone who _isn't_ reluctant to screw the living daylights out of him is so appealing he barely has words for it. "It's just my friends are—" he can't say who they actually are, that's completely out of the question— "kinda tough guys, you know? I don't want things to get ugly."

"Then we'll have to improvise, hm?" He lays a large hand on Cor's thigh, way closer to his cock than his knee.

"Yes," Cor breathes, spreading his legs wider in invitation, his cock twitching in his pants. This guy's damn sketchy but it turns out that's exactly what he needs. He wonders how much they could get up to on the gondola itself, whether people do that and how they get away with it.

"Gentlemen," the gondolier says before Cor can take that train of thought much further. "The Leville district."

The stranger makes a big deal out of thanking and tipping the gondolier as Cor steps out, and when the guy joins him again it's with a hand on the small of his back. "This way," he says, voice low enough that it'd be indistinguishable to anyone else on the waterfront, still as busy as it was in the afternoon. He leads them past the Leville quickly, then makes a turn along a canal. Does this guy actually live here in Altissia? They've been in town a few days and Cor is only starting to learn his way around.

"You have somewhere else in mind?" he asks as the stranger turns them away from the canal and into a cool, sheltered alley, dimly lit and less fancy than most parts of the city Cor's seen before. The plaster is eroding from the walls back here, exposing rough brickwork, and nothing is filigreed or brightly painted.

"Will this do?" the man asks, giving Cor no time to answer before shoving his back into one of those walls.

The impact knocks the breath out of him and adrenaline jolts through his system. He's halfway to summoning his sword by reflex before his brain catches up: the heat of the man's body pinning him to the wall, a muscular thigh pressing between his, the ache of his cock getting hard so fast. "Fuck yes," he says, grabbing hold of the man's coat and arching up to kiss him.

There's a throaty laugh that Cor can feel right before the man's tongue is pushing into Cor's mouth, running over his teeth and _teasing_ , like he's daring Cor to see what he can do. Cor bites him, teeth scraping at his tongue, and pushes his hands under the man's heavy coat to try to get a feel for him. He doesn't drop the coat but he lets Cor run his hands over as much of him as he can reach, and he's got the same wiry strength as Regis.

After a minute of exploring, while their kiss continues to have as much teeth involved as tongue, Cor decides he's going for it. He slides one hand down to the crotch of the guy's pants, finds the hard length of his cock, and squeezes. It's hard to tell for sure through the cloth but it feels like it's big. Good. If Cor's going to do this, might as well fucking _do_ it.

"Impatient," the man murmurs, and it feels like he's smirking, but before Cor can complain he's working at his belt, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling his cock out while Cor's hand is still right there to feel it. "Is this what you need?"

Cor gets his hand around it and it _is_ big, thick and hot against his palm. "I want it," he says. "You going to give it to me?"

"Where do you want it, darling?"

Fuck, the idea that they could do this however he wanted is hot. Cor's cock throbs at the offer. "I want you to fuck me," he says. "I want it up my ass."

"It will be," the man promises, and it's almost a growl. He grabs Cor's ass in one hand, hot even with the clothes in the way. "These come off, then. Show me the little hole I'll be filling."

Cor's yanking at his belt almost before he processes the words. Finally, _finally_ someone is willing to take him at his word instead of telling him he's not ready. He kicks off his boots, shoves his pants and his boxers down to get them out of the way. The air is cool on his bared skin and it doesn't matter in the least.

And it only lasts a second before the guy is taking Cor's thighs in his hands and lifting him like it's easy, the way Clarus could if he ever tried. He ends up pinned between that body and the brick, legs wrapping around the guy's waist with his cock pressed hard against Cor's. One of his hands is back on Cor's ass. "Tell me, have you been fucked before?"

"Yeah," Cor lies. Probably a guy like this wouldn't get cold feet about being his first, but why risk it? And he's gotten his fingers up there before, so it's not like he has no idea how to relax for it. "You're bigger, though."

That hand spreads his ass open and then fingertips are rubbing right over his hole, pulling a little on the rim. "I can tell."

It's hard not to tense up when the guy is messing with him like that, fingers still dry. Cor tries to match his smug shitty attitude. "If you forgot to bring lube, I have some. But you didn't forget, right? Going out obviously trying to pick somebody up like that?"

He laughs, and it's just as irritating. "Oh, I'm never caught without something I could use. But why not give me yours? You must know best what you like to use when you take a cock." Just a little too much emphasis on the end of that sentence, like he doubts it. Fuck him.

The bottle's in Cor's jacket pocket. He tightens his legs around the guy's waist to keep himself steady and pulls it out. He doesn't have to _like_ this asshole, right? Just find him hot. And from the way his cock is stiff and aching, pinned between them—yeah, that's not going to be a problem. "Here."

He can't see it when the guy takes the bottle and reaches back to his ass, but it's just a few seconds before his fingers are pressing at him again, slick and cold. He obviously knows what he's doing. He plays with the rim till Cor breathes deep, and pushes one thick finger in.

Cor tries to play it cool and not react too much but it's so different, having someone else touch him instead of doing it himself. It's so much stranger, having it be out of his control and just feeling the invasion like this. He squirms, pushing himself down on it as much as he can, biting his lip to keep quiet.

"You needy thing." It's so condescending Cor could punch him, but condescending or not this guy's got a finger in his ass to work him open for his cock, and he's so hard it doesn't feel like anything's going to make him change his mind.

"Waiting for something more substantial over here," Cor gasps out, because fuck the condescending bullshit. He knows what he's doing here and he knows what he wants.

"Something more like this? Or perhaps your sweet little hole just won't be satisfied until it's wrapped around my cock." He strokes deep, then pulls out enough that it's two fingers pushing back in, not as easy as the first, and not any slower. That's already a stretch and it's definitely not as big as his cock.

Cor can't entirely muffle the sound he makes when those two fingers drive in deep. It feels like he's been waiting for ages for someone to give him this. "Y-yeah, we're—getting closer now, that feels good."

"Don't hide those lovely noises from me," the man orders just before rubbing deep inside, finding that tender spot like he didn't even have to try.

Cor's head tips back and his back arches at the almost-too-much feel of it, and he couldn't hold the moan back if he tried. He can barely reach that spot when he's doing it himself, and having the stranger give it this kind of focused attention is overwhelming. His cock is drooling against his stomach at the relentless pressure.

The man laughs again and Cor can't even care. "You'll forgive an old man wanting to hear what he's putting you through."

"Y-yeah, want me to stroke your ego a little, huh? Tell you how good it feels when you play with my ass?" He shivers as that touch gets him closer, trying to hold back. " _Fuck_ , I want it."

The man lets off the pressure a little but keeps Cor so full, and that feels like another one of his fingers rubbing Cor's rim. "Want what, my boy?"

Gods, what a shithead. "Your cock," Cor grits out. "Fingers are good but—your cock's gonna be better." He assumes so, anyway. That's how people always make it sound.

"Listen to you, so sure of that." But he's pulling out his fingers anyway, and getting the lube back from wherever he put it to slick up his cock between their bodies. He shoves Cor around a little till he can get his cock where it needs to be, the tip rubbing against Cor's hole. It feels really big, pressed up against him.

"Come on," Cor says. "Do it."

The man gives him an amused little smile and Cor thinks for a second that he's going to hold back, _still_ , going to wait for him to actually beg or something—but then he pushes, slowly and mercilessly forcing Cor open, and he's still smiling when Cor has to close his eyes and just breathe through the hot stinging stretch of it.

He only stops when it's all the way in, stretching him wide and spreading him open deeper than anything he's ever felt, and Cor can feel the guy's balls pressed up tight against his ass. "How does that feel?" the man drawls. "You're taking so much, your first time."

The words jolt him, sharp and unsettling in a totally different way. "What are you talking about?" Cor demands.

"Don't lie to a man who's inside you, darling. It's terribly unbecoming."

Cor doesn't have an answer for that. He arches back against the wall to give himself some leverage and rocks his hips, making the man's cock slide inside him. That earns him a hard thrust, scraping his shoulders on the brick, hot familiar pain to go with the ache in his ass. He grunts at the raw sting of it but it's good, too, another jolt of adrenaline that makes all his senses feel sharper. He fists one hand in the collar of the man's coat and reaches down to take hold of his cock with the other.

He gets into a rhythm like that, stroking himself in time with the deep thrusts from that big cock he doesn't actually want to get used to. The guy sometimes talks to himself like he needs to hear his own voice to get off, shit like how tight Cor's ass is and how this is ruining him for someone else, but Cor doesn’t care—so when voices from above carry down to the alley, there's no mistaking them.

He'd know Regis' laughter anywhere, and the warm fondness in his voice when he says, "There, the window's open. Satisfied?"

It's Clarus who answers, of course: "I will be once you come back to bed."

How can they be so close? The alley must wind right around to the back of the Leville. The royal suite must be practically right above. Cor doesn't dare make a sound. If he can pick out their voices so easily, of course they'd be able to do the same with his.

"Oh dear," the man says, leaning in to murmur next to Cor's ear. "What if we were discovered?" He's still rocking his hips up into Cor, and fuck him. Even if he had a shred of shame, he doesn't know who those voices belong to.

Cor can't let himself think about it, about them in particular finding him like this. "You shouldn't, fuck, sound so excited about that."

"Shouldn't I? I bet the gentlemen in that room would love to see a handsome boy like you split open and hard for me."

"Shut up," Cor hisses, "fuck you, shut up," and the worst part is that he'd like it to be true. He can imagine it, a fantasy where they saw him like this and instead of getting angry realized they'd been underestimating him, where they decided to take him too once the stranger finished with him. A groan of need and frustration escapes his throat before he can get control of himself again.

"Shhhh," the man purrs into his neck, then bites the skin there and sucks hard at the same time he thrusts back in rough.

It hurts all over, Cor's back against the bricks and his throat getting bitten, his hips aching dully from wrapping his legs around the guy's waist and his ass much more sharply from getting pounded like this. It hurts and he's so hard for it, clinging to the guy's shoulder with one hand and grabbing his hair with the other, not even trying to pull him away, just desperate for an anchor.

Being pinned to the wall like this makes it really hard to get any leverage, means Cor mostly has to just let himself get nailed however the guy wants to give it to him. It's frustrating and hot both at once. And he can't seem to adjust to the guy's cock the way he could his own fingers—the stretch feels like it's getting _harder_ to take instead of easier, until he's squirming against the wall and a helpless frustrated sound escapes him despite himself.

"Too much?" the man asks, his lips pressed to Cor's shoulder. Fuck him, it's the same mocking thing he's been doing the whole time, but his voice has dropped into a register so deep and hungry it's practically a growl.

"Fuck you, I can take it," Cor bites out. He's a member of the goddamned Crownsguard, not some scared kid, and he's not going to let this asshole give him that patronizing bullshit. It aches, yeah, and it's still not getting easier, but he's not going to plead with this creep to go easy on him. And he's still hard, so it's fine, isn't it? The guy is ignoring his cock, though. Hasn't touched it once, too busy growling into Cor's skin, shit about how big it is and how much he's taking, like Cor is doing any of it for _him_.

Then there's a moment where Cor would swear he can feel the guy's dick actually _swell_ inside him. "Fuck," he gasps, reflexively trying to pull away from how weird that is, getting absolutely nowhere. It feels like he can barely breathe, he's stuffed so full. At least if he's such a wreck his voice doesn't work right, he won't have to worry about Clarus hearing him. Small goddamn mercies. "Come on—give me a hand here, you asshole."

The guy laughs and slams Cor back into the wall, so there’s nowhere for him to move around on that monster cock, pull off a little or just try to get it to hit something good. He can’t even clench down on it when the guy _finally_ gets his hand on Cor’s cock. “Ah, you _do_ need my help here,” he says, and fuck everything, he’s right, Cor isn’t as hard as he was a couple minutes ago.

No, it's okay, he can take this, he's not going to be defeated by _sex_ of all the stupid things. Cor tries to rock into the rough hand wrapped around him—those feel like sword calluses, like this guy might know how to fight along with how to screw the hell out of someone, and that's hot, right?—and he can barely move but that touch makes him feel like maybe he can stand the rest of it, being over-full and aching and trapped here with the brick grinding into his shoulders. "Don't stop," he breathes, because he has to. "Don't stop."

Thank the gods the guy doesn’t argue, or even talk, or worst of all let go. Cor can come like this. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to just focus on the good parts, the hand stroking his cock, the pressure of the man rubbing up against it from inside. It only takes a minute or two before he's shaking, his body straining for it and not quite able to reach. He's making embarrassing choked noises as he struggles for it, so desperately close. 

“Come for me, my dear boy," the stranger purrs, awful and gloating. "Even with my cock filling up this sweet hole you must know how.”

Cor hates him so much, and somehow it's that flare of anger that pushes him over the edge at last, into an orgasm that hurts as much as it relieves, one drawn-out and shuddering ache all over. He sobs as it drags on, too much, like being so full of cock makes it just as hard to _stop_ coming as it was to start.

When it finally ends he’s still getting fucked, harder—or maybe it just feels harder—the man letting go of his cock to grab him by the hip and drive in deep. Cor can feel his breath coming fast, but his voice isn’t even strained. “There, was that so hard?”

The guy's just messing with him now, has to be. "Y-you know the answer to that," Cor manages, and the tremor in his voice makes something curdle hot and unpleasant in his gut. It's way too much now, nowhere near enough distractions from all the ways this is uncomfortable, and those deep strokes that were turning him on before just hurt now. "Come on, y-your turn."

“It is,” he says, fucking him deep but slow, like he’s got nothing better to do all night. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

"It's—" He can't say it's too much. He can't. He can't let this smug bastard's condescension be deserved, can't let Clarus be right about him not being ready. He shakes his head. "No, I'm—gods, it's so much."

“And look at you, taking it all. Just like you knew you could.” The man leans in till their lips touch. “Will you take my come just as well?”

Cor wants to bite, wants to struggle, wants to punch this guy in his smirking handsome face. "Yes," he gasps instead. "Yes, gonna—gonna take it all."

“Good boy,” the man breathes, and then before Cor can snap back he’s kissing him, before he can punch him for real he’s holding Cor down on his cock and _gods_ , he can feel it happen. It pulses deep in his ass and then there's a rush of heat and pressure that makes him curse and squirm and it just keeps _going_ , filling him up until he feels bloated and swollen, until his guts are cramping up and he can't help the moan of pain.

“Hush, now," the guy murmurs, like it isn't his fault Cor is making noise in the first place. "You wouldn’t want them to hear.”

Cor shakes his head. Of course he wouldn't. It's just so _much_ , too much, and he wants the guy out of him already. "You get what you want?" he asks, and his voice is way shakier than he wants it to be.

“I did. And you?” The man pulls out carelessly, his cock sliding with grotesque slickness on the mess he's left behind. He squeezes Cor's ass one more time before letting him go, and it feels like he's doing it just to call attention to how full Cor still is even without his cock in there anymore.

"Yeah, I got plenty," Cor manages as he gets his feet under him. More than enough, he means, but he's still not going to say that. If he clenches his muscles as tight as he can, shaking from the effort and ignoring the pain, he can just barely keep the come inside him from spilling out and running down his thighs. He keeps a hand on the wall for balance, trying to catch his breath.

"Well then, I think we're about done here." The man cups his face in a broad hand, coaxing Cor to look at him as he smiles. "Have a lovely stay in our fair city, my dear. And I do hope I haven't ruined you entirely for the man you're pining for."

The last of his frayed patience snaps and Cor takes a swing at the guy, because _fuck_ him. But he must be more messed up from this than he thought, because—it's not his best form, sure, but he throws the punch and the guy just _isn't there_ , suddenly two steps further down the alley than he was a second ago.

"And that's my cue!" he says, sounding fucking delighted. He bows, theatrically, and then he's gone.

What a dick.

Cor leans against the wall for a minute, just trying to get his composure back. Okay, so that was a little rougher than he expected. He still _did_ it, and he's fine and he didn't need any coddling. And the aches and pains are easy enough to deal with. He reaches into the Armiger, finds a potion, and knocks it back. The scrapes and bruises fade, and the soreness in his ass eases. He's still uncomfortably full, but he can deal with that after he gets back to the hotel and can commandeer the shower.

He pulls his clothes back on and straightens them up as best he can. He's good. He wants that shower really badly, and even with the potion's restorative effect he's going to sleep like the dead tonight. But that's not a complaint. He did it. He can handle this. And next time he has the argument with Clarus about whether he's ready, he'll have this to point to. He knows.


End file.
